Wiped Out by Barbara Colley Read Free Book Online

room when Mimi called for a vote. “We’ll vote by a show of hands,” she told the group.
    In the dining room, Charlotte nodded her approval as she removed the crocheted tablecloth. Live and learn. No secret ballots this time.
    â€œOkay, then,” she heard Mimi say, “it’s agreed that the Hebert plantation will be the beneficiary of our annual fall sale.”
    â€œAh, excuse me, Mimi.” Charlotte recognized the voice as that of the woman who had suggested the women’s shelter. If she remembered right, the woman’s name was Doreen.
    â€œKaren and I have an appointment and are going to have to leave.”
    â€œBut, Doreen, we still have a lot of planning left,” Mimi argued.
    â€œThat may be, but I’m sure that you all can finish planning everything just fine without us.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œAre you coming, Karen?” Doreen asked pointedly.
    â€œYou betcha,” Karen answered. “I’ve had just about as much of this as I can stand for one day.”
    Either play the game my way, or I’ll just take my ball and go home. In the dining room, Charlotte shook her head as she recapped the lemon oil and placed it back into her supply carrier. These women are unreal, she thought. Just like a bunch of children.
    The moment the front door closed, the bees in the parlor began buzzing with a vengeance. Then the rapping of Mimi’s gavel started.
    â€œLadies,” Mimi cried. “Ladies, please come to order.”
    With another shake of her head, Charlotte headed for the kitchen to wash and dry the last of the wine glasses. Once that was done and she had put them away, the only chores left were washing the coffee urn and cleaning the parlor.
    Once again she noted that the silver urn needed polishing, but that would be a job for another day, she decided. For today, a good washing would have to suffice.
    She glanced toward the direction of the parlor. Maybe she could go ahead and get started on the parlor even though the women were still meeting. If nothing else, she could pick up any cups and saucers and wine glasses that might be in there.
    Should she or shouldn’t she? she wondered, but as she reached for the coffee urn, a sudden, unexpected wave of weakness came over her, and she gripped the edge of the sink instead.
    Low blood sugar. She grimaced. It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced the feeling, and she immediately recognized it for what it was. Being a borderline diabetic wasn’t a problem most of the time as long as she took her little pill each day and stuck to her diet. But sometimes, like now, for whatever reason, her glucose level would plummet, leaving her shaky and weak.
    Charlotte sighed. She’d learned to keep a supply of glucose tablets handy for just such rare occasions, but naturally, she was out. She had intended to get some—she really had—but never got around to it.
    â€œSo much for cleaning the parlor,” she muttered. Besides, Mimi might not appreciate the interruption while the meeting was still in progress. What she needed at the moment was a jolt of sugar and a few minutes to recover. Maybe now would be a good time for a break.
    Charlotte eyed the coffee urn again. More than likely a bit of caffeine with a half teaspoon of sugar would give her what she needed. And there was probably just enough left in the urn for a cup. Charlotte poured the coffee into a cup and spooned in a bit of sugar, then seated herself at the kitchen table. As she sipped the coffee, she noted that at least the pain in her back had eased to a dull throb.
    Low blood sugar, backaches…“You’re turning into a sickly old woman,” she complained, as she took a few more sips of coffee.
    Charlotte had just finished her coffee and was feeling somewhat better when she heard a commotion in the hallway. Maybe the meeting was finally over, she thought. If it was over, she figured that by the time she